When the season of white comes around,
The wandering, forgotten desire is freed.

Melting in the warmth of two lovers of held hands.
At night as the silver ski slopes quiet down,
And the silent sky looks on, that first moment shone so bright.
Breath caught and held until down for first light.

Twinkling shooting stars fall, unseen and unaware,
Drifting memories enclosed by the falling snow.

Once again, the blooming spring touches the dream; it falls into disarray, only to bloom again within.
Vanishing, it floats into the transparent air, a morning phantom of freezing haze, disappearing into the future.
Inhaled, it seeks gentleness.

This handful of memories, picked up and watched over.
Even now, they transmit the desire everywhere.

Trembling fingers were warmed.
Scattered memories float gently on the air.

Tears rain hard, changing to sleet and snow as they fall,
Embracing the dream closely, forever.
The wish must reach far and away from the days of winter.
Yet again in the night, as the footprints are traced.

Tears rain hard, changing to sleet and snow as they fall,
Embracing the dream closely, forever.
The dream revives when the season of white comes Around. It falls into disarray, but blooms once again,
And the wandering, forgotten desire is freed.